You Couldn't Tell By The Look In His Eyes.

Today is Compadre's birthday. A day traditionally reserved for channeling one's inner Greta Garbo while simultaneously hunting down one's own animal spirit guide. Apparently, only after one leaves a really persickety message on one's best friend's phone for asking an otherwise commonplace question. Fem! I have mountains of work to do, and I won't even be able to get into the whole animal spirit guide hunting until well after lunch. But happy birthday all the same!
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The girls looked worn out and unrested during their 6-0 loss to the Orioles yesterday. The announcers were boorish and crass and made the most appalling fuss every time the O's batted a runner inn. The hysterical little snits acted like they never saw a man bat in a runner before. I mean Jesus, Derek gets up for a drink of water and he bats an RBI, and these silly little girls piss themselves. It was nonsense, but those O's are about to see what a solid night of rest and wenching can do for a team so they better just look out!